— Divine Rain and the Price of Breathing (Enhanced Version)
I had reached out and gripped the hand of the one who had hijacked my existence.
The instant our palms touched, terror unfolded. His aura wasn't chaotic. Not angry. Not alive in the way I expected. It was still—frozen. A vast abyss where nothing had grown for two centuries. Standing there felt like balancing on the lip of a bottomless chasm, staring into an ocean of lifeless, bitter eternity.
This was not power to inspire. This was survival incarnate. To refuse him… would have been death.
I swallowed my pride. My hesitation evaporated.
"Yes," I whispered into the void.
But the questions screamed louder inside: Who was that mysterious "Dear" entity in my dream? Were Rank 1 and Rank 2 truly human once? And why did it feel like I wasn't a player—but a key, a tool, something preordained?
There was no time to ponder. Only death, struggle, and the next blade descending toward me.
"I accept," I said internally.
"But one condition—I want to find the two 'Goddesses' first. They aren't divine. They're a plague. I want my answers."
Night—silent, ancient, calm—smiled faintly. Not reassurance. Not warmth. His smile carried the weight of centuries lived, survived, and conquered. He had already walked this path. He knew me, across lifetimes.
When our hands fully connected, reality fractured. My soul was dragged backward, ripped violently through layers of existence, slammed into flesh once more.
The Awakening — A Tree That Shouldn't Exist
"Night-ji! Please… wake up! Stay with us!"
Yumi's voice pierced through the darkness like a fragile lifeline. Air tore into my lungs with jagged edges, as though broken glass had been forced inside. Pain exploded through every nerve. But strangely… it receded. The agony wasn't spreading—it was withdrawing.
I forced my eyes open.
Before me towered impossibility: the World Tree. Roots pierced scorched earth. Its trunk glowed with living mana, and branches stretched outward like benevolent arms. Translucent petals drifted down, dissolving into light as they touched my body—knitting shattered bone, sealing torn muscle.
Yumi had burned herself to manifest this miracle. Her light had fed life into death.
The pain softened. Exhaustion ran deeper than bone. I gripped the hilt of my Azure Blade to pull myself upright. Dawn bled slowly into the horizon.
Inside the tree's barrier, the villagers huddled. Alive. Safe.
"If you had this power… why wait so long?" I croaked. My throat raw.
Silence.
Hina. Yumi. They weren't the same. Their auras steadied, anchored in resolve rather than trembling fear.
Yumi stepped forward, pulling me into an embrace. Pain screamed through me, yet her warmth grounded me. She kissed me—fast, desperate, unapologetic.
"Just heal," she whispered. Eyes burning.
Hina hovered at the barrier's edge, massive spheres of flame already forming. They had prepared for this final stand.
Divine Rain — Borrowed Power Burns Deeper
"Let's begin," Night's voice echoed inside my skull.
"Wait! Stop! I don't want to feel that soul-ripping agony again!" I shouted internally.
"Fine," he replied, amusement laced in tone. "Then you handle them."
I pushed myself upright, stiff, unnatural. Hina and Yumi watched—relief mixed with expectation.
I extended my hand toward the approaching demon army.
"DIVINE RAIN!"
Nothing.
Air remained still. My soul could not touch the mana surrounding us.
"Useless," Night hissed.
Before I could respond, he acted. Not forcefully—but with absolute certainty. He reached inside, wringing my soul like a soaked cloth. White-hot agony tore through me.
This wasn't mana. This was me.
Night snapped his fingers.
Divine Rain.
The sky shattered.
It didn't rain water. It rained diamonds. Crystalline azure droplets fell like judgment, piercing demon flesh, melting them into sludge. Beauty and horror collided. Inside, I screamed—each drop burned a fragment of my soul.
Night turned to Yumi, voice refined, respectful.
"My lady, please lower the barrier. Trust me."
She did.
"You bastard!" I roared inside. "You're bleeding me dry for a magic show, and you're polite to her?!"
Night ignored me. He swung my blade—not with strength, but with life-force. Diamond-cut azure energy erased everything in its path. Demons didn't die—they ceased.
When the last fell, Night withdrew, control relinquished like a finished performance.
Aftermath — Partners, Not Equals
I collapsed. Knees buckled. Coughing thick, choking blood.
Yumi rushed to me, light flickering—but this wasn't a wound mana could touch. My soul felt like a dried leaf crushed between fingers.
"Are you insane?!" I screamed. "I almost died!"
Night's laughter echoed—cold, entertained.
"Relax, partner. You're still breathing, aren't you?"
"Save your strength… the real show hasn't even started."
And then I understood.
This partnership was never equal. It could never be.
Every drop of Divine Rain, every heartbeat, every motion—was precise, controlled, painful, and beautiful. Each shard of my soul that vanished carried the weight of life and death, felt by every fiber of my being.
Hina and Yumi—alive—witnessed the impossible. Night—ancient, aloof, merciless—acted with perfect calculation. And me? I felt everything: the agony of power, the joy of survival, the sheer terror of my own soul being plucked like a string of a divine harp.
This was not just a fight.
This was emotion made manifest.